


When You Can't Keep Your Mouth Shut

by thatwriterlady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Professor Castiel, Student Charlie, Student Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5543267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean needs one more social sciences class before he's officially a college graduate.  He opts to take Anthropology with Charlie and ends up with Sam and Sam's best friend Kevin in the class too.  It should be an easy class.  Dean is smart.  What he doesn't anticipate is how attractive his teacher is going to be, or just what trouble his smart mouth is going to get him in this time.  He was so good for most of the course.  What will his professor think?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a new one for you, based on another prompt, though I did take it in a slightly more serious direction. I apologize for that, it was the mood I was in. That being said, I do hope you enjoy it.

“So…what classes are you signing up for this semester?” 

Charlie leaned over Dean’s arm to see what he was selecting on his screen.

“I don’t need many because I doubled up last summer, but it it looks like I missed a social sciences credit and I have an elective still to fill. I am taking an extra math class too, but I already chose that one. So, social sciences…” He scrolled down until he found the ones the school offered.

“Sociology? Psychology? Linguistics doesn’t interest me. Neither does Political Science."

Charlie stopped him from scrolling and pointed at the screen. “If you take that, I’ll take it with you. I need an elective, and I think that would be fun.”

“Anthropology? Really?” He was skeptical over what her idea of ‘fun’ was.

“Sure! It’s the study of humanity and how societies around the world work. It’ll be exciting.” She was grinning so wide he could see every tooth in her mouth. Rolling his eyes, he conceded.

“Fine. But if I don’t like it within the first three classes I’m dropping it.”

“What will you take for your elective?” she asked.

“I think swimming. I can pass that with my eyes closed and after working my ass off for the last four years, I need something that I don’t have to think about, and that comes without homework.”

“Yeah, I get that. I’m taking an art class to round out this last semester. I like to draw, and it should be pretty easy.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and watched as he selected his courses. Either he could do eleven a.m. with a C. Novak or do N. Novak. At four p.m. It was a no-brainer really. Who wanted to be in school until five? Not him! And especially not when his other three classes were early in the morning. He clicked on the eleven a.m. class and sent up a silent prayer that C. Novak wasn’t a dick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first day of his new classes had Dean feeling a bit excited but tired. He had swimming directly before Anthropology, and he’d done laps most of class while the instructor worked on teaching a couple of people how to swim. Seriously, who took a _college_ swimming class without already knowing how to swim? It was nuts. Charlie walked in a few minutes after him and he sat up grinning when his brother Sam walked in with his friend Kevin.

“Hey guys! You’re taking this too? Why didn’t you say something?” Dean clapped his brother on the back when he sat down on one side of his seat. Charlie had taken the seat on his right.

“You didn’t tell me you were taking this either. Guess we really are Winchesters,” Sam joked.

“Yeah. It’s cool we finally have a class together. I didn’t think that would happen since you’re in your first year,” Dean said.

“That and we’re not going for the same degree, but I do need a social science credit, and this looked better than Linguistics and Political Science,” Sam laughed. 

“That’s what I said! Right, Charlie?” Dean turned to look at his friend and she nodded. 

“I talked him into this one. It was this or sociology.” 

“Well, C. Novak, whoever she is, she teaches this and sociology, so you’d have gotten her either way,” Sam said.

“Uh, I get the feeling the C doesn’t stand for Christine.” Charlie nodded towards the front of the room. They were in one of the smaller lecture halls and they had chosen the front row, center seats, which gave them a clear view of their professor. 

“Holy hell…” Dean muttered as he watched the man walk over to the desk that sat to the right of the podium and start pulling papers out of his briefcase. C. Novak was ridiculously good looking. After pulling papers out he lifted his head to look out across the class. It was apparent that he was doing a head count. Dean couldn’t stop staring. When the professor’s gaze fell on him he smiled softly, his eyes lingering for only a moment before continuing on.

“Guess choosing this class was a good idea,” Charlie said, elbowing him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah, I’m going to have to agree,” he mumbled. This was a class where he was definitely going to be paying attention.

  
The C turned out to stand for Castiel, but he went by Cas. That’s what he told the class. More than once during his initial introduction his eyes had wandered back to Dean. The young professor looked to be only a few years older than Dean and this was his first year teaching. He came from a large family where he was the youngest, and he lived alone with his cat, Mjölnir. The cat’s name piqued Dean’s interest, and he sat up a little straighter.

“Who can tell me where I got the name for my cat?” Professor Novak asked. Dean’s hand shot in the air faster than anyone’s and the teacher definitely noticed.

“You. What is your name?” 

“Dean, Dean Winchester,” he replied. Professor Novak smiled and Dean felt his heart flutter. It should be illegal how good looking the man was.

“So, Dean, tell me. Where did the name for my cat come from?”

“Mjölnir is the name of the god Thor’s hammer,” Dean replied. Professor Novak looked impressed.

“And did you garner that knowledge by watching Avenger movies or by studying actual mythology?” Dean sensed that this was a genuine question of interest and not an insult.

“I have taken two mythology courses, sir. I find Norse mythology fascinating. That is a rather witty name to choose,” Dean replied, careful to keep any flirting out of his tone. He really did find the name of the cat to be a cool choice. The professor smiled brighter.

“Ok, so now you all know about me. I’d like to get to know each of you. Dean, since you spoke up first, we’ll start with you. Tell us a little about yourself. Where are you in the pursuit of your degree, where are you from, how are you liking college, and maybe a couple of your hobbies.”

Dean looked at his brother who smiled and nodded. He turned back to the professor. “Well, I took a year off after high school as we had a death in the family, but I’m now in my last year, last semester, working on my degree in Electrical Engineering. I’m originally from Lawrence, Kansas. College has been an interesting experience but honestly? I’m glad I’m in the home stretch. As for hobbies, well...” He jerked a thumb at Charlie. “This is my best friend, and when we’re not swamped with homework, we play video games and watch movies.” He pointed at Sam next. “And this is my little brother. I spent time with him too. We play basketball, watch TV, go fishing, stuff like that. But it’s not as often as we’d like.” 

Professor Novak nodded as he listened. “These are all very American things to do, wouldn’t you say? Things that we come to expect from our society. Let’s keep going. What about you?” He pointed at Sam. 

From there they made their way around the room doing introductions and while the professor was busy making eye contact with each person that was talking, Dean stared only at him. He found himself wondering how old Professor Novak was. How old did one have to be in order to be a college professor? He assumed the man had already earned his Master’s. That meant the man was very smart, especially if he was only a few years older than Dean was. 

His dark hair looked like he ran his fingers through it about a hundred times a day, and just during this class Dean had seen him do it at least three times. He was pretty sure the man wasn’t even consciously aware that he was doing it, but the messy hair was a plus. It increased the man’s “hot” factor tenfold. They were sitting close enough that he could see the bright blue of Professor Novak’s eyes, and how his emotions seemed to reflect in them. When he laughed at something someone said, his eyes would light up, and when he appeared to disagree with something someone said they would darken, though his actual facial expression would remain neutral. 

It was simple observations like this that told Dean the man was not going to be voting for Trump in the upcoming elections, he had no clue what Hentai was, and that he was hungry, despite the early hour, after someone mentioned baking as one of their hobbies. Sharp cheekbones and full lips rounded out the rest of Professor Sexy, and after staring at his face the better part of a half hour, Dean took the time to check out the rest of the man. The professor was expressive with his hands, wringing them when he silently disagreed with something that had been said, or waving them enthusiastically when he did agree. The man’s fingers were long and slender, and Dean noticed there was _not_ a wedding ring on the man’s hand. His style of dress left something to be desired, but if he was being fair, this was how nearly all of the male teaches in the entire school dressed. A tan blazer over a blue shirt that was not quite the same shade as his eyes, and a red tie. The shirt was tucked neatly into a crisp pair of jeans that looked nice on the man. Dean wondered what the man would look like in a more casual setting. In what ways could he read the man in a more relaxed location? 

It was early and he’d only been watching the man for the last forty minutes, but he was fairly certain the man was gay, or at the very least bi, and that left Dean with so much fodder for his alone time later it was ridiculous. This was a teacher, though, and teachers didn’t get involved with students. Even if the student was nearly as old as they were. Again he found himself wondering how old the man was. His guess was under thirty but over twenty five. Definitely younger than Dean’s last boyfriend who had been thirty two.

On more than one occasion Dean had been told that he should go into law enforcement since he was so good at reading people, but he didn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. Not the one person that couldn’t accept him as he was. No, electrical engineering is where his heart had always lain, and he was on course to get his degree when this semester was over. He already had a job lined up too. He’d make more money than his father ever had, and he’d take good care of his mother and brother. Charlie too, she was as much a part of their family as Sam was. 

When the last person had given their mini bio, the professor’s attention came back to the center of the room, his eyes grazing over Dean more than once as he talked about the different things that made up American society, and then the questions began. He asked what they knew about other societies, and about the cultural and religious practices of such places as Nepal, Egypt, Tongo, and he did it in a way that kept the class involved. Dean liked the deep, gravelly sound of the man’s voice as he talked. When he joked he tended to lean towards the class and speak from only one corner of his mouth, as though he were sharing an inside joke with them, and that made Dean smile. It was endearing.

By the end of class Dean knew he liked the man and this class would be alright. When everyone started to stand up he looked over at Charlie.

“Well?” he asked.

“I like it. He’s a fun teacher too. I’m not going to drop it,” she replied.

“Me either. He talks about social issues and manages to make them sound interesting. The news can’t even do that,” Dean chuckled.

“We’re heading out, I have a class in twenty minutes,” Sam said as he stood up. Kevin was already by the door waiting.

“Yeah, sure, Sammy. I’ll see you later, ok?” Dean smiled at his brother, and Sam smiled back.

“Yeah. And call Mom, she nags at me when you don’t call at least once a week,” Sam said as he started for the door.

“Yeah, yeah. I will.” Dean grabbed his stuff and stood up. Charlie did the same.

“So guess who I have a date with?” she asked as they started for the door.

“Who? Not Dorothy,” he asked.

“No, Glinda! She _finally_ said yes!” Charlie squealed as she followed him out of the classroom. Neither were aware of Professor Novak watching them leave. Watching _Dean_ leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets involved in the classroom debates, impressing his professor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLOSURE:
> 
> The debate in this class is just that: A debate. Don't get your panties in a bunch, I'm not here for political debates.
> 
> Enjoy!

The next few weeks Dean and the rest of the students grew comfortable with the professor’s teaching style, and with the smaller class load Dean wasn’t overwhelmed by the homework that was given out. He had time for the few parties he actually got invited to, though he only attended about half of those. He had picked up another shift down at the garage he worked at, and when he wasn’t slaving over a homework assignment, he was bent over the engine of a car. Either way, his bills were getting paid, and he was learning new things. 

Swimming turned out to be a piece of cake and he ended up helping the instructor with teaching the newbies how to do flips under water and how to dive. It was by far the easiest class he had ever taken, and was one less thing he needed to worry about. Anthropology turned out to be a cakewalk with how observant Dean already was. He paid attention to people, he read the newspaper, watched documentaries and programs that explained issues in other countries. He was sympathetic to the plight of the people in Syria, a topic that brought up a rather passionate debate in class one Friday afternoon between Professor Novak and a girl who sat a few rows back named Lisa. It was apparent pretty quickly that Lisa was the kind of person who blindly watched the news, believing everything she was told. The debate was intelligent and quite interesting, but Lisa was not willing to actually listen to the professor’s point of view. Dean could tell the man was frustrated and he wanted to ease the look of frustration on the teacher’s face that had his brow knit to the point that he was almost scowling. He raised his hand.

“Can I interject something here?” 

The professor’s expression relaxed and he turned to look at Dean, his blue eyes still dark with irritation but clearly interested to see what Dean wanted to add. “Please, feel free,” the professor said, making a sweeping gesture to let him know he had the floor.

“Ok, I understand Lisa’s concerns here. It’s fear that is ruling our country. The media has a firm hold over the people, showing us just enough to keep us frightened and submissive. Would you agree, Professor Novak?” Dean asked. The other man nodded vigorously.

“Oh, absolutely.”

Dean turned in his seat so he could see Lisa. She was watching him, her expression one of frustration still. “And what about you, Lisa?” She shrugged slightly.

“I don’t know. I mean, why would they lie to us? They’re supposed to keep us informed, tell us when we’re in danger, when a threat is imminent.”

Dean glanced at the professor who was clenching his jaw so tight he was at risk of shattering his teeth. 

“Well, in theory, you are correct about that. The media is a social tool meant to keep us up to date on current events, but they don’t. They tell us only what the government wants us to know. Just enough to keep us scared and in line, and to bias our opinions. For example, the opinion against these Syrian refugees. Your opinion of them is based solely upon what you saw on the news or in online news articles. You heard about the Syrian refugee that turned out to be a bomber I’m sure, right?”

Lisa nodded eagerly, her brown eyes widening as she pointed at the professor. “Exactly! And that’s the point I am trying to make! We can’t let terrorists in!”

Dean held up a finger when the professor went to respond, no doubt with something less than pleasant. “Ok, I see your point but…can you tell me, why are these refugees fleeing their country in the first place? Why would they need to seek sanctuary outside of their country?” He kept his tone casual and out of the corner of his eye he noticed the professor smiling as he crossed his arms and looked up at Lisa, waiting for her answer. She was floundering.

“I-I don’t…I’m not….” She glared at Dean for a second before letting out an annoyed huff. “I don’t really know.”

Dean looked to the professor. “What about you, Professor Novak? Do you believe the stories on the news or do you dig in and do your own research?”

“Oh, I don’t believe anything the media tries to tell me. I know better. See, my sister is a reporter for the New York Times, and she has flat out told me that she will get a story and the editors will omit information they feel might be inflammatory, or that the government will come after them for. She became a journalist because she wanted to get down to the nitty, gritty heart of issues, but they have essentially gagged her. She now hates her job,” the professor said. 

“And you know why the Syrian refugees are fleeing? And are you aware that it’s a mixture of religions? Not _just_ Muslims that are seeking help?” Dean asked. Charlie grinned at him and nudged his arm.

“Yes, I do. There is a civil war going on there. The people were being slaughtered,” Professor Novak replied.

Dean looked up at Lisa again. “He’s right. More than four million people have fled, running for their lives, running to protect the lives of their children. The same people that you want to ban from entering, you’re denying assistance to their children. Children that are innocent. This country, I won’t delve into the genocide upon which it was initially founded, that’s a debate for another day, but our modern society was founded upon the idea that anyone needing to leave persecution, that needs a fresh start, regardless of nationality, religion, or social stature, could come here. But you want to deny them our assistance. Food, shelter, protection. What would you do, send them back to die?”

“I didn’t say that,” she grumbled. “But can’t they go somewhere else?”

Dean tapped his index finger against his lips and smiled. “Ok, so…we should all go home then and pack.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her irritation bleeding through into her voice. He glanced at the professor who had his head tilted, waiting to see where he intended to go with this.

“Well, if they have to leave then so should everyone who ever came here, because our ancestors, the ones that came over on the boats and ‘founded’ this country? They did it illegally. Just because we made laws stating that anyone born here is a legal citizen, well, our laws wouldn’t hold any water, right? They’d be null and void. We should give the land back to the people it was taken from and carry our asses back over the big pond to where our ancestors originally came from. Because hell, if they fled because of religious or social persecution, we should be capable of handling that. We’ll send the Syrians back and we’ll go back to our ancestral homes. If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for us, right?”

Lisa rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Is he though? You’re basically implying that gentle, innocent, peaceful people be told to go back to the guns, bombs, and violence, and just suck it up and stay in their own country because the religions of some of them scares you. I won’t make this a religious debate; it’s not pertinent to this class. But expecting people to willingly go into what essentially will equate to concentration camps. This is a nation supposedly founded on freedom but really, does that sound like freedom to you?” Professor Novak asked her.

“Well…no,” she frowned.

“And what is being suggested, to make the Muslims wear visible identification, who here can name three times in history where such method failed terribly?” Professor Novak took the debate to the rest of the class at that point and people jumped in eagerly, offering their points of view, and Dean had to admit he was impressed. The professor had a knack for inspiring passion in his students, and making them think about not just themselves but people all over the world. They had, since class began, discussed the different social and economical structures of people all over the world, and how it affected the rest of the world as a whole. They discussed events in far off places Dean had never heard of that were affecting larger places, how the drought in California was affecting the state as well as the rest of the country, and even the effect the current presidential debates were having on other countries. Dean got it. The professor was forcing them to think outside the box, and he was really enjoying that. When the hour was up and everyone started gathering up their stuff to leave, Professor Novak walked over to him.

“Dean, can I speak with you for a moment? I won’t keep you long.”

Dean’s heart leapt into his throat, and his fear must have been apparent on his face because the teacher quickly held up a hand and shook his head.

“It’s nothing bad.”

Dean glanced at Charlie, who patted his shoulder before following Sam and Kevin to the door. Dean came down the stairs, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder.

“Uh, you sure I didn’t do something wrong?” he asked nervously.

“Oh, not at all. In fact, I was wanting to commend you for not only maintaining an even temper when I thought I was about to blow, but for doing it in a non-aggressive way. I wanted to tell you that for this debate participation, I’m giving you ten points. Lisa will get points as well. Anything that makes people think and opens up their minds to question the world around them, I encourage. I’m honestly surprised that you’re going into electrical engineering because you could definitely teach subjects like this.” Dean realized the professor, standing this close to him, was only a few inches shorter than he was, and his eyes were even bluer this close up.

“Me? Teach?” 

“Or you could have a career in politics. It’s a shame you’re not in my Political Science class. I’d really be picking your brain in there.” The professor smiled and damn it if Dean didn’t feel butterflies fluttering in his belly. He could feel his cheeks heating up, but there wasn’t much he could do about it except shift his weight from one foot to the other and drop his gaze to the tops of boots.

“I thought that class would be dull, so I let Charlie talk me into this one. I almost ended up in your Sociology class.”

“Well, better that you were in here than with my mother. She’s not as relatable. I sometimes think she doesn’t relate to any humans.” Professor Novak smiled wider, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh.”

“Well, I’m definitely not regretting taking this class. Once in awhile Charlie’s a good influence.” 

“She doesn’t participate much. Is she shy?” Professor Novak asked.

“Charlie? Heck no. She’s a loudmouth. I think she’s just getting a kick out of observing rather than jumping in. Will she earn more points if she participates?” 

“Absolutely. So far I’m enjoying the papers you both turn in. They’re very well written, and I can see both of your personalities coming through. It gives me further insight into your thoughts and views.” Professor Novak walked to his desk and rifled through a stack of papers there. He plucked one out. “I wasn’t going to hand these out until tomorrow but since you’re here now, you can have yours.” He handed over the last paper Dean had turned in, a six page essay on socialism in America. There was an A circled at the top.

“Wow.”

“I left comments in the margins that you can go over later. It’s a very well written paper, but all the ones you turn in are well written. It’s papers like this, and discussions like the one we had today, that make me think you could have a future teaching this kind of material. Think about it. You can do engineering but you can teach too.” 

Dean tucked the paper into his bag. “Thanks, I appreciate that. I’m…gonna go. See you tomorrow.”

Professor Novak smiled. “Most definitely. Have a good day, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, didn't mean to sound snippy, but I anticipate the attacks and try to cut them off at the pass. Hell, if I read a story where Cas or Dean was a campaign manager for Trump, I wouldn't insult the writer. To each their own. I'm a pacifist until I'm pushed not to be. You know that movie quote "You won't like me if I'm mad" (And I probably terribly misquoted it, and I don't care!), well, that's me. I'm the most pleasant person in the world. Until you tick me off. I don't tolerate insults, either towards me or towards other writers. So I suggest we all just be chill. I love everyone. I hope you liked this chapter. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean rakes his sass to the next level and definitely catches his professor's attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....
> 
> This _could_ be the end of this story. I'm still debating. I technically _have_ more written, but not sure if I want to pursue it. So, read this chapter as I think it's a good place to end it. Enjoy!

As the weeks progressed and graduation grew ever closer, his confidence boosted even more, Dean joined in more often in discussions about everything from religious influence on politics to what effect the legalization of marijuana would have if all the states legalized it, and he became bolder, his sass reappearing from when he’d been in high school the more comfortable he got. A conversation regarding the teamwork between Mussolini, Stalin, and Hitler started it.

“What did they call these three?” Professor Novak asked one morning.

“The Three Stooges.” 

The class burst out laughing and Dean jerked in his seat, his eyes growing wide as he realized he’d said that out loud. Even Professor Novak was laughing.

“That is true, Dean, but that was not exactly the answer I was looking for.”

Dean bit down on his lower lip but it didn’t stop his grin. “Sorry, Professor.”

The teacher waved him off as he launched right back into the lesson.

The following week they were discussing importing and exporting and how different countries were being affected on a social level. The Professor wanted to know if the stricter laws were driving a wedge between people and blocking communication.

“Well I don’t talk to anyone anyway…” Dean muttered. Charlie snorted and slapped a hand over her mouth, but Professor Novak was grinning at him. Dean smiled but he was blushing hard. Sam elbowed him and shook his head, frowning at him. Dean just flipped him off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later Professor Novak had the overhead projector out, and he was writing out statistics for the number of immigrants that had been coming to America over the last two decades when his marker slipped from his hand and rolled under the podium. Now, from time to time the class had heard their professor swear. It wasn’t anything new. This time though, when he couldn’t reach the pen he got frustrated.

“Ah, fuck me!” He growled out as he tried to move the podium to get at the marker. It was his only red one.

“Maybe later.” The words were out of Dean’s mouth before he realized it, his natural sass shining through again. Suddenly he heard laughter, a deep, belly laugh, and he looked up to see Professor Novak cracking up. Dean grinned and when he looked over at Charlie he saw her laughing hysterically too. A glance over at Sam and Kevin told him even they were laughing. 

“Sorry, that sort of slipped,” Dean apologized.

“It’s fine. Your humor is refreshing, though I admit, that caught me off guard,” Professor Novak said.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Dean got up, hurrying down the three steps to the main floor. Between the two of them they managed to move the podium. By that point the class was over and everyone was starting to file out. 

“Oh well. Guess we finish the statistics tomorrow.” The professor sighed before turning the projector off. He turned around to look at Dean. “That was definitely a first.”

Dean cocked his head, trying to figure out what he meant. “You mean my comment? It slipped. I don’t usually say stuff like that to my teachers.”

“Yes, well, let me tell you a little something, Dean.” The professor moved a little closer. Dean waited to hear what he was going to say but with each step the man made, his heart beat faster.

“You’re not the only one good at reading people.” Professor Novak arched one brow and gave a teasing smile before reaching past Dean to grab papers off the podium. All Dean could do was stand there, completely in shock. Had his professor…just _flirted_ with him?! He was good at reading people, really good, actually.

“What?” His brow furrowed as he floundered for the first time in probably five years.

“Alas, you are a student, so I cannot take you up on that offer at this time. Besides, I don’t make a habit of just sleeping around.” The man was acting so calm and talking so nonchalantly that Dean was left gaping. He shook his head in hopes of clearing the confusion.

“Ok, wait a second. Are you flirting with me?” 

The professor looked up and damn if it wasn’t done coyly. “But I can’t flirt with students, it’s against policy. Shame class ends in three weeks and we won’t see one another again.” The man gave an exaggerated sigh as he shoved everything on his desk into his briefcase. Dean’s head was absolutely spinning.

“What, uh, brought this on? My comment?” He scratched nervously at the back of his neck. Glancing up he saw that Charlie was gone. The door was closed and they were alone.

“Let me put this out there, Dean. I do not give you favorable marks because I find you attractive. I give you favorable marks because you have earned them with excellently written papers and intelligent debate. What I am hoping is that we can, at the very least, continue to remain friends once your college career has ended. Would that be possible?” Blue eyes were staring up at him, and Dean could swear they were looking into his very soul.

“Yeah, definitely. I’d like that.”

“Good. Not in class of course, but you can call me Cas.” 

Cas. Dean had almost forgotten the man’s first name wasn’t really “Professor.” 

“Cas.” He said the man’s name just for the sake of trying it out. The blue eyes watching him darkened slightly. Dean smirked.

“I don’t sleep around either, for the record.” 

Cas nodded. “Good. I’ll also put this out there. Are you aware of the term demisexual?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I’m considered Panromantic, Demisexual myself, or at least that’s what Charlie told me. Point is, I’m Pansexual and Demisexual.” 

Cas arched that one eyebrow again and Dean had to fight not to visibly shiver at the sight of it. He took a step closer, and this time Dean did shiver. “Dean, are you attracted to me? It’s pointless to pursue anything more than friendship if you are not.”

“N-no, I’m definitely attracted. Caught me off guard when I walked in here that first day and saw you. It’s been forever since I found myself attracted to anyone,” Dean admitted. Cas smiled in that bright way that Dean loved to see him do.

“Well that’s good because you’re the first person I’ve had any attraction to in about nine years. It has not been easy maintaining a professional air while not knowing for sure where you stood. Graduation is in exactly five weeks. I would like to take you out to dinner at that time.”

“Definitely. By the way, can I ask how old you are? It’s been driving me nuts since I first saw you.”

Cas smiled again. “I’m twenty six. I’ll be twenty seven in September.”

Dean nodded. “I’m twenty two. Twenty three in January.”

Cas grabbed his briefcase off his desk. “Alright. So, for the remainder of class, nothing will change. Life will go on as usual, though I would like to get your number before the end of the last day. I already provided mine.” He winked as he passed Dean and started for the stairs.

“You did? When?” Dean turned and followed him.

“Yes, on the last paper you turned in. If you review the comments I left you, you’ll find it. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to leave. I have another class in under an hour and I haven’t had lunch yet, and the urge to kiss you is a bit more than I can handle at the moment. I will see you tomorrow, Dean.” 

Out in the hall Dean watched the man as he walked in the general direction of the cafeteria. Charlie popped up next to Dean.

“Did he want to talk to you again?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did you get in trouble for that comment?” They started walking in the opposite direction and headed out into the warm spring sunshine.

“No, not at all. Turns out he has a good sense of humor. He just wanted to talk career choices again. Apparently he believes I’d make a better teacher than an engineer,” he lied.

“Well, you would make a good teacher,” she told him.

“Hey, let’s go get tacos, I’m hungry,” he said.

“Sounds good to me.” She grinned at him.

“Good, let’s go.”

Five weeks. In five weeks he wouldn’t have to worry about Cas losing his job because they started dating. In five weeks he would be going out to dinner with the nicest looking man he had ever seen in his life, with the exception of maybe Joe Manganiello. He couldn’t wait for school to finally come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I do hope you enjoyed this chapter. If I know you all as well as I think I do, you are screaming for more. I will get back to you on that....
> 
> Leave a comment, love you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> When I was in a brick and mortar university forever ago and summer rolled around (I went year round), in order to keep my job at the daycare center on campus I needed to be taking a certain number of courses, and being that it was summer there really was nothing heavy I wanted to take, so you can bet your ass I took swimming. I already knew how to swim (taught myself to get away from the touches of a disgusting pedophile gym teacher I had sophomore year of HS), but I didn't know how to really do flips and stuff, or how to dive. So I took the class. Aside from it being freezing because they had only recently refilled the pool, it was fun and yes, I got an A. And yes, people took the class not knowing how to swim. I helped the teacher where I could. 
> 
> So I hope you liked this so far. I'll add another part tomorrow.


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